Dressed in Metal
by DEATHmuse
Summary: Rufus goes for the next best thing. One-sided Rufus/Reno.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**Warning (and **_**Spoilers**_**)!** One-sided Rufus/Reno, Rufus/OC.

**Author's Note:** Dedicated to my beta, and to my friend who I will dub, "A." She was my muse and threw this idea at me. ILY. Fic was titled by a lyric from Johnny Hollow's "Aegis." (Dressed in metal/Dressed in rain/No one can hurt me now.) Enjoy… hopefully. Review if you like.

--

Rufus Shinra could have anyone he wanted.

Or almost anyone.

He was, after all, gifted with remarkable physical features that had easily captivated the adoring populace. His sun-kissed hair and icy blue eyes were perceived as "simply irresistible," earning him the title of Midgar's Most Eligible Bachelor as soon as he was fit to marry -- and it also didn't hurt that the boy was the new President of Shinra Inc., one of the most powerful companies in the world, and therefore, was an astoundingly rich man.

Women wanted him, and Rufus gladly indulged in the flesh that was thrown at him frequently.

But it wasn't enough. It hadn't _been_ enough for some time.

He shrugged the thoughts off as a fleeting urge. After all, he was Rufus Shinra. Rufus was powerful, dominating, and peerless... yet the continuing fantasies made him feel anything but. And gradually, the urges grew worse and worse until they plagued his dreams, inhibiting Rufus from performing his every-day duties to his best ability.

He was tired of the sleepless nights. He was exhausted from his restless mind that cruelly replayed the wanton images over and over. They taunted him, dared him to stand up and take these dreams of his in his own hands.

So he did.

**

Rufus's awe almost betrayed him when he opened his front door.

The tall, lean man standing before him smiled warmly before he shifted his weight and said, "Mr. Shinra, sir? I was sent here." His smile then lessened to a playful grin.

Rufus examined him once more. The man had short brown hair and a rather sallow and hollow face. His true blue eyes glittered in what Rufus believed to be anxious excitement. The man was staring back at the young President, which caused involuntary shivers to tingle along the blonde's arms.

He was perfect.

"I did," Rufus murmured and stepped aside so the young man could enter. Then, thinking better of it, he added, "Please call me Rufus for the remainder of your stay here."

"Do I start using the name now?" The man asked, those pretty blue eyes brimming with curiosity. Those eyes were too fucking beautiful. Rufus shook his head and the man continued. "I'm Patrick then."

Rufus showed his approval in a swift nod and turned to proceed into the kitchen. "Would you care for a drink, Patrick?"

There was a slight pause before Rufus heard light chuckles from the living room. "Is this how you treat all your guests, Rufus?"

Rufus laughed dryly despite his growing nervousness. "Of course," Rufus said as he walked back into his living room with two glasses of red wine in his hands. "But actually, you'll be pleased to know that you're the first guest of... this nature."

Patrick had already made himself at home and was casually seated on the blonde's couch, one leg bent across the other. Rufus handed him a glass and the man sipped the drink eagerly. "Really," he stated, his tongue quickly darting to wipe the corner of his mouth. "Wow."

The blonde smirked and leaned back into his recliner. So far, so good. He was afraid his plan would go awry; in either the "agency" he contacted sending someone incapable or unsuitable to his needs, or in his nerves restraining his own enjoyment. But Rufus was feeling comfortable in the brunette's presence, and as for the brunette himself... His looks, mannerisms, and subtle facial expressions were promises to Rufus that perhaps, after this night, he may have peace within himself again.

Patrick had dreams of being an actor, he told Rufus. He came from Junon and relocated to Midgar in hopes of making it big, with minimal luck so far. When Rufus asked if working for the high-class escort service might hinder his dreams, Patrick grinned and shrugged. He replied and said that at the current moment, he needed the money, and it paid decently enough.

Rufus was well aware that his questions could easily be construed as offensive, but Patrick didn't seem to mind. He handled the conversation with ease, and a strong assurance that reminded Rufus strongly of...

Ah, yes. The reason why Patrick was sitting on his couch in the first place.

"Shall we get started then?"

Patrick nodded and stood from the couch. "All right, then. Now, Rufus... My price is usually 1000 gil, but due to your special requests, I'm afraid I have to raise it..."

"Understandable," Rufus acknowledged, and stood as well. He grabbed a white paper bag tucked next to his seat and retrieved the neatly folded pile of clothing in it. "6000 gil."

Patrick's eyes opened widely. "Rufus, I..."

"For special requests _and_ confidentiality," Rufus explained and set the clothes on his coffee table.

Patrick looked at the set of clothes and back at Rufus. "Truth be told, I was just gonna charge 3000, but... I'm not going to argue with your price, Rufus. And, so you know, my agency prides itself on discretion..."

"Of course. But in my case, it's best to take a little precaution with what I'm asking. You'll see soon enough," Rufus concluded, and then pointed to the table. "Get dressed," he ordered and headed off to his bedroom.

**

Now or never, the blonde thought as he combed his fingers through the long, synthetic hair. Soon, he'd have him. He was the next best thing; the closest Rufus could ever hope to get to the original. The butterflies flew in anticipation around his stomach. Soon...

Through his large dresser mirror, Rufus watched his bedroom door open slowly behind him. Patrick stepped in looking wary, still in the process of doing up his buttons.

"Stop," Rufus calmly said. "Leave those undone." He turned around to face the man and took him in. The Turk uniform suited him quite well. The pants clung to Patrick's frame nicely, and the shirt...

Hmm...

"Untuck the shirt," Rufus demanded, watching Patrick as he did so.

"Do I look good, Rufus?" Patrick asked with a smirk. He turned around to flaunt his new outfit.

"Perfect," the blonde answered. Then, he cleared his throat. "There's actually one more thing..."

The brunette quirked an eyebrow. Rufus turned back around and stroked the hair before grabbing the wig and hair tie from his counter and walking over to the escort.

Patrick stared at the long, red synthetic hair and smiled. Rufus guessed the man finally understood what was about to transpire. While the man may not know the names of Rufus's employees, he must have certainly seen them by the young President's side in pictures from magazines or on television.

The brunette's blue eyes shone mischievously. "Of course, Rufus," he obeyed. He stood still while Rufus securely placed the wig on his head and tied the red hair back into a ponytail.

"Actually," Rufus muttered, his heart thundering in his chest as he turned Patrick around to have him face the blonde. "Call me 'sir...' for right now."

"Yes, sir," Patrick said in a low tone and grinned. "How do I look now?"

"Perfect," Rufus responded breathlessly. The only difference was the lack of symmetrical tattoos on his face. "Reno."

**

"Reno," Rufus murmured into Patrick's mouth. Their kiss was wet, sloppy, and rough -- just how he'd imagined Reno's to be. How the improper Turk managed to mesmerize Rufus was a mystery, but just thinking about taking the redhead hardened Rufus like nothing else. Kissing someone that resembled Reno, then... It was almost impossible not to come on the spot.

Rufus pushed Patrick onto the bed, who lay there perfectly splayed on the mattress, his blazer half-off and almost all buttons on his shirt undone. He panted heavily, his pretty blue eyes half-lidded in obvious arousal.

"Beautiful," Rufus commented as he stripped of his clothing. Beautiful Sin Incarnate. Reno always possessed a dangerous arrogance about him, as if everyone should be well aware that he was better. He was greater than thou -- Oh, but not at this moment. Here he was, gorgeous cock hard and waiting for his hands. Reno was nothing but a breathless man, wriggling impatiently underneath him, whispering, whimpering...

"Boss. I'm waiting."

Rufus succumbed to his fantasies then, after so many months of pining for the unattainable. Here he was. Rufus leaned down and lavished a spot on Patrick's neck before trailing saliva down to gently bite on a nipple, ripping off the buttons of the white shirt in the process.

Reno tasted so delicious. Salty and slightly sour, like his constant don't-give-a-shit attitude. Gaia, Rufus needed this, needed to lick the sweat off of Reno's chest and drink himself to an unearthly stupor.

"So beautiful," he moaned when he reached a hand inside the trousers and began to lazily pump Patrick's cock, causing Patrick's eyes to roll back in his head. Reno was a god among men if he could create explosions in Rufus's stomach when he was making beautiful noises like he currently was...

"Yes, sir," Patrick whispered and then groaned loudly. Rufus's dick yearned for attention. "Come on, boss. Fuck me good." Rufus glanced at Patrick's face, the features giving a rather accurate version of Reno's wolfish grin.

Whatever his Reno wanted, his Reno got. Rufus made sure of that constantly -- and if anyone found out about how big of a raise the President furtively granted the Turk, he'd be in big trouble. But that was something entirely different.

He waited for Patrick to shimmy out of the trousers. Then, Rufus licked and sucked at his index finger, quickly inserting it into his lover -- _because Reno would be his lover, at least, for now he was _-- to prep the man. Patrick moaned and bucked his hips at the pleasure threatening to overtake him.

"Feel good, Reno?" Rufus asked huskily. A small part of his mind observed the dramatic change in his voice, but it was to be expected. The redhead did those things to him. He had gotten under Rufus's skin so easily...

"Yes, sir..." the man called. His knuckles were stark white as he gripped the sheets. His pretty little Turk.

Two fingers. Three. The process didn't take that long, but of course Rufus had assumed that, as well. Reno would be used to this, so accustomed to the dangerous and dirty lifestyle of sex and booze.

The blonde paused and waited for the man below him to wrap his legs around Rufus's hips. "Tell me, Reno," he said softly, wiping wet strands from his lover's face. "Are you so impossible to reach now?"

"No, sir," Patrick breathed. The vulnerability in those blue irises was magnificent.

Rufus plunged his cock into Patrick, breath immediately cut off as he struggled with his body. Not yet. _Not yet!_

Both men groaned once Rufus settled in to a slow and steady rhythm. He pounded into his fixation roughly, strongly, deliberately. He would release all his pent-up frustration in these moments. He would rid himself of the ache in his heart that constantly reminded him of that which he could not have... until now.

"Reno, Reno, Reno," the blonde sobbed into Patrick's neck. "So good, so perfect, so rare..." Because Reno needed to know. Reno needed to hear just how special he was, and how Rufus would quickly kill anyone threatening his Turk. Cloud Strife and AVALANCHE, be damned...

Patrick continued acting, sighing and moaning curses here and there. "Sir," he'd gasp when Rufus thrusted in that perfect angle. "Boss," he screamed when Rufus's movements turned frantic and more needy.

He was close.

_How would __Reno__ look when he came?_

Rufus turned his attention to his dresser mirror and watched himself, balls-deep inside his Reno's ass. He slapped his body against him, harder and harder. He watched himself grab Patrick's cock and stroke it to climax.

As if forgetting himself, Patrick released a loud, guttural moan as he threw his head back and arched his body. "Rufus!"

The name on his lover's tongue was too much. Rufus came then, spurts of his load filling Patrick so much that when the blonde pulled back, it dripped onto the mattress.

"Ya like that, sir?" Patrick asked in a post-climax drawl.

Rufus stayed silent as he rolled onto his back and caught his breath. "Yes," he answered minutes later. "You were perfect, Reno."

Patrick rose from the bed then and nodded. "Great," he said, and then cast the young President an apologetic look before removing the wig. "It was getting itchy."

**

The escort left soon after. Patrick was extremely polite for someone in his line of work, and Rufus had even promised him that he'd continue asking for him in the future, and that, perhaps, he could pull a few strings and schedule auditions for the man. It was, after all, the least he could do for the favor he did for Rufus.

Rufus sat on the dining table once he was alone, however, and began to reconsider his choices. Perhaps it was best not to partake in a masquerade -- not if it left him with a heavy heart and more haunting thoughts to burden him.

He could pretend all he wanted. It wouldn't change a damn thing.

Rufus pulled the newspaper from the center of the table and opened it to reveal a picture of him and his Turks on the front cover.

It chilled him to see that the photographer caught the nature of them all perfectly.

It was during the extravagant ShinRa reception that took place the night before to celebrate Rufus's new position. As far as Rufus could tell, the photograph was taken as they entered the grand hall.

Rude, the farthest from him on his left, was looking straight ahead, sporting his usual black sunglasses and was completely unreadable. Elena, the newest member, was staring down at her feet in evident fear of the attention they were receiving. Tseng was next to Rufus on the left, his lips pursed in mild agitation.

Rufus had been smiling for the reporters the entire time. It was almost hilarious how they chose the picture in which he wasn't focused on the cameras. His blue eyes had shifted to the Turk on his right -- the Turk that seemed unaffected by everything and blatantly turned the other way, oblivious to the fact that his boss was staring at him.

The redhead looked bored.

Rufus pushed the newspaper away and hung his head in his hands, disgusted with himself and wishing all the self-pity away.

Rufus Shinra could have anyone he wanted.

Or almost anyone.

And that killed him.


End file.
